


Dreams Do Come True

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Pining, Romance, Smut, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-01-31 07:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18586861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa has a big ol' crush on Jaime and Jaime has a big ol' crush on her but he's a Lannister and she's a Stark. Everyone would have a canary if they got together, but the heart wants what it wants. Sansa is trying to date other men, but with no success. She's about to give up, but then Jaime surprises her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/gifts).



> Thank you thank you thank you to @mynameisnoneya. You helped me so much with this chapter, and even though you've already read it, I hope you still enjoy it lol. Also, thank you thank you, thank you for the gorgeous banner and all our talks. You've no idea how much they've meant to me and how much I've enjoyed them. :)

Banner by mynameisnoneya! 

[](https://imgur.com/vvEJ3kL)

Jaime watched Sansa Stark running in the rain towards Lannister Enterprises, her red hair flying behind her. He smiled as he watched her, and tried to contain the giddiness he felt. Soon, he would see her. Soon, they’d be ensconced in his office have a tete-a-tete. Granted, it would be for work, but still. 

He rolled his eyes as he made for his desk. He felt like a teenager again, unable to wait for his crush to appear so he could just bask in her presence. Though his teenage years were far behind him at 47. He had a daughter that was almost eighteen for crying out loud. Sansa could _be_ his daughter - she was only 25 for heaven’s sake. He had no right to be drooling over her like a man about to buy a motorcycle and put an earring in his ear. 

His ex-wife, Cersei, would have a field day if he entertained his thoughts about Sansa and actually asked her out. He shuddered, thinking about what Cersei might say - or worse, do. 

Jaime now heard Sansa outside his office talking, and before she could knock on his door, he opened it and strode out. She was speaking with Brienne adamantly, hands gesticulating wildly, and Jaime looked on in amusement. Brienne looked somewhat horrified by whatever she was telling her. 

“Uh, Sansa?” he interrupted. 

She looked over at him, a blush forming on her cheeks, and her blue eyes bright. “Oh! Jaime, I was just on my way to see you. Am I very late?”

“You’re not at all. You’re early. We don’t have our meeting with the Bolton’s for another hour in the conference room.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. But I appreciated that you ran just the same.”

Now she looked mortified. “You saw me?”

He nodded, laughing softly. “Would you like to step into my office so we can prepare for the meeting?”

She nodded, smiled at Brienne who looked relieved for the save, and strode into Jaime’s office. 

“What were you telling Brienne?” he asked as he shut the door, trying not to think that she smelled so good he wanted to eat her right up. His gaze traveled down to her legs encased in a pair of black pants she described as “palazzo pants” and thought again how long her legs were. They were basically eye-to-eye which Jaime liked, unlike Brienne who towered over him. And she had amazing legs, too. When she wore skirts - 

_All right, old sport,_ he scolded himself. _You’re two seconds away from taking a sexual harassment form out on yourself._

“Oh, she asked how my date went last night,” Sansa said, placing her briefcase on the floor next to the chair in front of Jaime’s desk. “I was trying to catch her up very quickly.”

Jaime frowned. “You had another date last night?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding and look less than thrilled about it. 

About a month ago, when he asked her over lunch who she was texting furiously while looking at the phone in pure disgust, she had declared that it was “Some gross guy on findmeamate.com.”

She had then went on to tell him that she hadn’t dated in a couple years and was thinking it was time to try. “I made mistakes in the past,” she’d told him. “Big ones. I am being quite picky now.”

After her first date, Jaime had asked her about it thought it pained him to do so. He feared the day she’d come in and tell him she found the one she wanted to be with. So far though, his poor girl wasn’t having any luck. _No, no. Not your girl,_ he corrected himself. 

“What happened? You don’t sound happy,” he said as he sat behind his desk and Sansa sat down. 

She sighed as she sat back, a slight pout on her red lips. “Well first, he looked like he hadn’t bothered to shower and literally just rolled out of bed to meet me, but he had to be at least ten years older than his picture.”

Jaime made himself not wince. He laughed lightly,trying not to give away his hurt at that complaint. “What’s wrong with older men?”

“He wasn’t a man. He was a misogynist. A real pig. And I don’t care about the fact that he’s older, but if you’re going to lie about that, what else will he lie about? It was a creeper move.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He frowned. “Did he do something inappropriate?”

If he did, Jaime wanted a name so he could track him down and beat the shit out of him for doing anything to Sansa. 

“Yes!” she said emphatically. “He went on for twenty minutes about how he hates it when women don’t put full body pics of themselves because it’s important for him that a woman have a ‘tight’ body. This from the man who has a picture up from ten years ago. _Then_ he proceeded to look me up and down.” She looked disgusted. “And then he tried to kiss me after he insisted on walking me to my car. I kneed him between the legs and told him never to call me again.”

“Do you want me to have him taken care of? I know people.”

Sansa burst out laughing and Jaime realized she didn’t know he wasn’t kidding. 

“You say that every time some guy is nasty to me,” she said. 

“I mean it every time.” And he did. He really did. It sickened him to think that there were so many assholes out there who had no concept of how to treat a woman like a person deserving of respect and not an object. 

She sighed and sat back. “I’m going to take a break. 

“You just got here,” he joked. 

She rolled her eyes. “From dating. I’m going to take a break from dating. I just…” she sighed and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers while resting her elbow on the armrest of the chair. She felt close to tears. Not because she was so upset that the date hadn’t worked out, but because the man she truly wanted was sitting there across from her completely oblivious. 

She wanted him, Jaime Lannister, even if he was a Lannister and she was a Stark and as everyone knew, the Starks and Lannisters hated each other. 

When she opted not to try her mettle as an attorney in a place that was not her family business, her siblings and parents and even her cousin, had been horrified. 

They’d spent days telling her how she’d come to regret working for the Lannisters. She’d retorted that what she regretted was telling _them_ she was going to work for the Lannisters. 

And sure, some of them sucked - Jaime’s father Tywin was a dick, and his ex-wife Cersei was possibly the worst person she’d ever met in her life, but she thought his brother Tyrion was pretty ok and Jaime was the one she worked for anyway so…

Jaime. Handsome, funny, smart, and successful. Plus, hard-working, a great boss, and incredibly sweet and kind and gentle and oh Gods, she was afraid that she was never going to get over this crush she had on him. Which was why she’d tried to date. But all she seemed to keep getting were losers.

And if she did find someone great, would she just compare them to Jaime anyway? Because it was him she wanted at the end of the day... all day... _every_ day. 

“You just what, sweetheart?” Jaime asked so gently, Sansa did well up in tears. 

_Wait. Did he just call me sweetheart?_. He had, though he appeared not to notice. _Probably thinking of me as his daughter right now._

“I just want a good man. A solid man. A man with a job and a car who is kind and sweet and smart and knows how to treat a woman. A man like--” She stopped herself from saying “you”. 

“A man like?” he prompted.

She shook her head and wiped at the tear that escaped. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t exist. What I want exists only in bodice rippers and romcoms.” 

He came over to her and knelt by her chair, extracting a handkerchief from inside his breast pocket. 

“I hate you,” she said, taking the handkerchief. 

He looked startled. “Why?”

 _For being perfect,_ she thought. She didn’t answer him though. She wiped at her eyes. “Now I’m going to look terrible for our meeting with the stakeholder.”

“No, you’re beautiful,” he said warmly. “You’re always beautiful.”

“Stop it,” she said and rolled her eyes. Inside, she hoped he wasn’t just saying it, but Jaime was her friend, and so he probably was. 

“Sansa, the right guy…” He sighed. “He’s out there. Trust me.”

She nodded absently, the way you do when someone says something you’re supposed to react to. 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t believe me.”

She laughed. “No.”

He sighed and rose to full height. He looked down at her contemplatively, and then walked away and headed for the giant window that faced downtown Winterfell. 

Had she upset him?

“Jaime?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, jamming his hands in his pockets. To do it or not to do it? To ask her out - as friends of course. A friend who wanted to take her out and show her a good time and show her exactly what she’s looking for. A man who will wine and dine her and treat her how she wants to be treated. How she _deserves_ to be treated. 

But would she say yes, and if she said yes, then what? Obviously, they’d go out, but after? Would they just carry on as before? Would she thank him, give him a kiss on the cheek, and thank him for being such a good friend? 

Or would she be horrified if he asked? Would she think he was some kind of creepy uncle? 

“Jaime?”

She was behind him now. Her hand on his back. He wanted to lean into her touch, just that small touch. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and push her against the window and --

“Sansa, would you - that is, what do you think if I took you out?”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

He swallowed hard. “As friends of course. To cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up,” she repeated. “Are you pitying me?”

“No! Gods, Sansa, no. You’re - I mean - no.”

“I’m what?”

“Gorgeous. You’re a gorgeous girl and I’ve no doubt that the man you’re looking for is out there waiting for you. Absolutely _pining_ for you.” _Like me. I’m pining for you, Sansa_. “But in the meantime, let me take you out and show you a good time.” He winced. “That came off a little smarmy--”

“Yes,” she said, and there was a breathless element to it that made him wonder if she actually really wanted to go out with him. 

His whole body seemed to relax. His green eyes warmed, and he smiled, the fine lines around his eyes crinkling. She loved those laugh lines. She loved those eyes. And that sandy blond hair he kept a little on the long side - just about shoulder length -and his lean and yet muscular body in those tailored suits - 

Okay, now she was starting to sound like last night’s date and that was not good. 

He met her gaze and she felt it - something passed there between them. Something that was not just their typical camaraderie. Something else. Something _more_. 

Gods, she really hoped he tried to kiss her tonight because if he didn’t, she might just tackle him and not let him up until she had her fill of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Red. That seemed like a good color to go with. It was sexy, seductive, it went with her hair, Sansa thought she looked really good in it…

It was a win-win. 

She didn’t even look at the price tag of the red dress she picked up off the rack and brought it to the dressing room to try on. Gods, she really hoped this one looked good. She’d tried on half the store already and she was thinking she might need a nap before her date with Jaime at the rate she going. Never in the history of her dating had she ever spend this much time trying to find the perfect dress to wear. 

She’d asked him what to wear and he said a dress and a “fancy one”. So, she’d managed to skip out early to go dress shopping. Jaime was onto her, too. She’d seen the twinkle in his green eyes when she said she had to go to get a few things before tonight. 

Men. 

Changing yet again, Sansa sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that this was the dress. If it wasn’t she was going to only one more shop to look and that was it. She still wanted to squeeze in a mani/pedi. 

And…

“Whoa,” she said aloud. “This is it. This is _definitely_ it.” It was sleeveless, hugged her curves, and then fanned out into a long and billowy skirt with a slit up the front, stopping low enough for some modesty but just barely. 

“Miss? How did that one work out?” the shop worker asked on the other side of the dressing room. 

“I’m taking it!” 

Sansa swore she heard the woman mutter, “Oh, thank God” before shuffling away.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Yes?”

Jaime looked at his trimmed beard and ran a hand over it while looking his hairdresser in the mirror. “Perfect.”

“Do you want me to trim up your hair too?”

Jaime sat back in the chair and nodded. “Please.”

“Date tonight?” his hairdresser asked with a smirk. 

“How’d you know?” Jaime asked. 

“Because you’re two weeks early for your appointment and you usually just tell me to do whatever. This time you care.”

Jaime grinned. “Well, she’s a special woman.”

“She must be. And she’s going out with you?”

Jaime laughed. “Yes, amazing isn’t it?”

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa was glad she’d had a wax over the weekend so she didn’t have to worry about any heavy maintenance or trying to make an appointment to get one done. 

Once at home, she dropped the matching red shoes she’d gotten on the table, hung up her dress over her bedroom door, and headed straight for the shower. She wasn’t going to have time for a nap, but that was fine. She was much too nervous - and excited - anyway. Date time was in two hours. 

xxxxxxxxx

Jaime pulled his suit out from the closet and checked it over. It was fine. No wrinkles. He had just picked it up from the dry cleaners the other day after all. He brushed at imaginary lint anyway. 

He checked his watch. He had time for a quick snack before he had to jump in the shower and get ready to pick up Sansa. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa gulped when she heard the knock at her door. 

Jaime was there. This was happening. The date was _happening._

She strode with purpose to the door and opened it. _Courage, Sansa,_ she told herself. _You can do this. Sure he’s your dream guy and you’re basically in love with him, but whatever. You got this._

Jaime stood there, looking so handsome she could cry . He wore a gray suit with a white button down and handkerchief poking out of his front pocket. He had a gray simple gray tie and black shiny shoes. His hair was perfect, as it always was, and she just wanted to run her hands through it. His beard, she’d noticed, looked a bit neater and she wondered if he just got it trimmed for her. 

The thought made the butterflies in her belly flutter even more. That would mean that he wanted to look good for _her_ , just her, right? 

“Wow,” he breathed. “You look...stunning.”

She felt positively giddy by the look of admiration on his face. She smiled. “So do you.”

She swore he blushed. “Thanks,” he said softly and ducked his head, smiling. Then he looked up and held out his hand. “Ready?”

She licked her lips and was it her or did he watch her do it? She nodded. “Let me just grab my purse which is,” she turned and grabbed it off the table, “right here.” She slid her hand into his and felt a jolt go up her arm. “Now I’m ready.” She was aware of the breathless quality her voice took. 

His eyes darkened, she knew they did. He grinned and kissed her hand. “This way, my lady.”

“Lady? What if I want to be a Queen?”

He smiled down at her while she closed her door, keeping her eyes on him. “Then this way, my Queen.”

She bit her lip and giggled and he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as they made their way down to the end of the hall where the stairs were. 

Jaime’s heart felt as though it was going to leap right out of his chest. He was with Sansa. On a date. And she looked so fucking gorgeous he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to push her up against the wall, confess his undying love and loyalty to her, and fuck her right there and make her his. 

But, he promised to be a gentleman and gentlemen didn’t do that sort of thing. 

No matter how much they wanted to. 

He led her to his car, mindful to open the door for her, and his mouth went dry when he was seated next to her and that slit up her dress gave him a view of one long slender leg…

He wanted that leg wrapped around his waist while he thrust inside her. Okay - well, he wanted _both_ of them wrapped around his waist, _obviously_. 

“So I know it’s customary to take one out to a French restaurant,” he began. 

“Ew,” Sansa said and then slapped a hand over her mouth. 

He laughed. “But then I remembered how you did _not_ enjoy it with...what was his name again?”

“I can’t even remember,” she sighed. “Right now they are all just one giant asshole in my mind.”

“Kind of graphic.”

She laughed and he grinned. “You know what I mean,” she said. 

“I do. So, I’m taking you to Srtatta. It’s Italian, and I know you love Italian.”

“Oh, I do and I’ve always wanted to go there! Is it true they have dancing?!”

He couldn’t stop smiling. He loved making her this happy and excited. “They do in fact. Sometimes they even do a tango.”

Sansa gasped. “I’ve never done it and I’ve always wanted to do that, too!”

“Well then,” he said smoothly. “This may be your lucky night.” _Can it be mine, too_ , he wondered. However, just being with Sansa outside of work was everything.

“Why can’t I just date you?” she said on a sigh and then her eyes went wide. 

Sansa wanted to push the car door open and fling herself out of it. Had she really just said that? Out loud? _Oh my God. What must he think of me?!_. “I mean - I mean I just - I wish I could find someone _like_ you, but not - I mean--”

“Sansa,” he said gently and put his hand over hers on her lap. “I understand what you meant.”

But he couldn't have. Not really. If he thought that she didn’t really want him then no, he didn't understand. But then how could she come out and say that she did want to date him specifically when he probably wasn’t interested in her that way despite some of the looks he gave her and that deep voice he’d used a few times…

But…but what if she was just projecting? What if she was just imagining him wanting her so hard because she wanted him so hard but then he really didn’t want her at all - 

Ugh. That would be devastating. 

Silence fell and Sansa was certain she’d ruined everything. 

And yet…

His hand was still over hers. 

She wanted to look at it, to marvel at it. His hand was on hers. They were touching. And if they got to do the tango - the hottest dance _ever_ in the history of dances as far as she was concerned then their bodies would be touching. And wasn’t dancing just sex with clothes on?

He removed his hand and she felt bereft. But then he said, “We’re here,” as he pulled in front of a tall stone building and a man standing off to the side rushed forward. A valet. Holy shit. This place had valet parking. 

Jaime looked over at her. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t,” she breathed. He got out and ran around to her door and opened it for her. He held out his hand and she stepped out and brushed up against him. He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she whispered. 

He offered his arm. “Shall we, my Queen?”

She slid her hand through his arm. “We shall.” _My King._


End file.
